


She's Got Red Lipstick and a Bright Pair of Shoes (She's Got Knee-High Socks, What to Cover a Bruise)

by shieldings



Category: Teen Titans (Comics), Teen Titans - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Flashbacks, Flirting, Fluff and Angst, Past Abuse, Past Underage, Romance, Slade doesn't show up in the present timeline he's just in the flashbacks, Weddings, sexually charged lipstick application
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:48:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26780113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shieldings/pseuds/shieldings
Summary: Even normal things feel like they've been ruined: it's been years, but sometimes Tara feels like she's still with Slade.  As everybody prepares for Dick and Kory's wedding, all kinds of miserable feelings begin bubbling up inside of her even as she tries to have fun.  To add to the stress, Raven has been acting awfully cute lately...
Relationships: Background Dick Grayson/Koriand'r, Raven/Tara Markov, past Tara Markov/Slade Wilson
Comments: 30
Kudos: 35





	1. Artistry

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from "Fake Palindromes" by Andrew Bird! That line always reminded me of Tara. The song seems to me to be about a girl who becomes disillusioned with the world, becomes a Top (tm) and performs trephinations (or maybe becomes a murderer idk).

“Stay still,” Kory says. Tara feels the tug of the mascara wand on her lashes. She hesitantly opens one eye and is promptly poked.

“You're going to kill me,” she says.

“You'll leave a beautiful corpse,” Raven says, not looking up from her book. That's awfully insensitive for someone who'd assumed Tara was dead for six months. Even though it's been years by now, it still stings a little.

For the past couple of weeks, they've been indulging Kory. Tara thinks it's unnecessary; after all, she's not dying. She's just getting married. Despite this, they're doing everything the magazines say they should do. Kory is following them exactly, as though they're religious texts.

“If you're doing me, then I'm gonna get Raven,” Tara says. “She's not even playing.”

Raven sinks down and hides between her book. The cover is in some language Tara can't understand, and this annoys her a little.

“Don't bully her,” Donna says.

“Look, if I don't get to turn Morticia into a Barbie doll, Kory's not doing anything else to my face.”

Donna bonks Tara lightly on the head. “If you want to put makeup on someone, pick me,” she says. “Raven doesn't want to join in.”

Raven mutters something Tara can't make out. Tara shrugs, snatches the mascara brush out of Kory's hand a little too sharply, and turns to Donna. Raven makes the noise again. Donna closes her eyes politely.

Just as Tara prepares to make a cute little raccoon, Raven half-whispers, “Wait.”

“You're not saving her,” Tara says. “You won't recognize her when I'm done.”

Raven very hesitantly puts a hand on Tara's shoulder. “I want to try it,” she says. “Do-- do my face.”

“Oh-ho,” Tara says. “Now that I'm paying attention to someone else, you suddenly want me.”

Raven looks nervously to the side. “Don't be stupid,” she says. “Just draw on my face. For Kory.”

“Right,” Tara says, shifting and turning in an awkward circle to face her. She can suddenly feel Donna and Kory's gazes very heavily. “Do you want...?”

Raven still doesn't meet her eye. “Everything,” she says. Her ears are red. “Do the whole routine.”

“It's not really a routine if you're not used to it,” Tara says. “Here, turn and look at me.”

“This is your first time doing someone else's makeup?” Kory asks, leaning in curiously. “You do not usually wear any yourself.”

“That obviously zitty, huh?” Tara asks, suddenly a little embarrassed. “I used to wear more. With most cute girls, you can't even tell, right?”

“Oh, you can tell,” Donna says. “If you're looking for the right things. Here, you start with foundation. I'm not sure I've got any pale enough for Raven, though...”

“I read that you start with the eyes,” Kory says. “See, the magazine says--”

“Personal taste,” Donna interrupts.

  
They settle on the lightest shade. Tara pats it on gingerly, trying to avoid directly touching Raven's skin. Raven keeps her eyes closed, and her brows are furrowed in concentration.

“You don't have to look so constipated,” Tara says. Raven's ears get redder. “Eyebrows go next, right?”

“Right,” Donna says. “Raven's got really dark eyebrows though, so maybe we should just shape them instead of coloring them in.”

When Tara wore makeup, she didn't really put much effort into her brows. She went for the most dramatic things: bright blue eyeshadow, bright red lipstick, bright, bright, red, red cheeks. She usually got it done quite quickly and artlessly. She wasn't thinking that much about it. Somehow, this is a little painful.

“If we color your cheeks in maybe you'll look less dead,” Tara says. Raven's cheeks are already quite pink. Again, Tara makes an effort not to touch Raven's face, but she suspects that if she did it would be warm and smooth. Why is she thinking that?

“Don't be mean,” Donna says. Tara shakes the useless thoughts out of her head.

When they do the lipstick (it's a deep color that reminds Tara of old wine), her hands shake. She does her best to hide it, but it smudges at the corner of Raven's mouth. Inexplicably bold, Tara delicately wipes it with her thumb (it still streaks). At that moment, Raven's eyes, usually so calm, seem suddenly uncertain as they meet her own.

  
Tara feels a startling surge of panic and she stumbles backwards into Kory.

“What's wrong?” Donna asks, but Tara just shoves the open lipstick tube into her hand before half-running out of the room.

In the bathroom, Tara splashes cold water in her face and takes a few seconds just to breathe. She looks up into the mirror and sees her made-up face for the first time that night.

In the harsh fluorescent light of the overhead lamp, it's obvious where the cakey foundation fades into imperfect, shiny skin. The water has melted her mascara, and her lipstick doesn't look great either. Altogether, Tara doesn't really like the picture of herself all done up like that.

\---

_They were a present; like so many other things, they were a present. A set of mismatched, but clearly expensive, beauty items offered unceremoniously in a paper bag. Tara didn't really know how to use them. She hadn't exactly had many friendly ladies around during her formative years to teach her how. She taught herself, staring into the mirror in the gym-sized bathroom at the compound, leaning forward and sticking her tongue out as she clumsily lined her eyes._

_  
Slade didn't mind that she was bad at it. He said it made her look more grown-up, and he didn't like it when she looked too much like a little girl. “Grown-up” felt a bit like a costume. Tara wasn't sure she really understood how to act but she did her best._

“ _When we get 'em,” she'd said, lipstick staining her slim cigarette. “I think we should take Raven out first. That witch scares me.”_

“ _How would you do that?” Slade had said, not harshly, as he ran his fingers through her tangled hair._

“ _Probably when she's meditating,” Tara said. She paused thoughtfully. “She doesn't sleep much. She's smart, too.”_

“ _Not as smart as you,” Slade said, and that made her smile. “She's not planning ahead.”_

“ _I think she'll be harder to catch off-guard, though. I think she might have been hit as a kid.”_

“ _Oh?”_

“ _She's got that vibe, you know? Tense. She acts calm, but she's got that sad look.” Tara took a long drag of her cigarette._

“ _Do you feel sorry for her?” Slade asked. Was that... irritation? Suspicion?_

“ _Of course not. 'Know your enemy' and all that shit, right?” Tara smiled. “It's gross that you'd even think that.”_

_He seemed to like that. Slade always liked when Tara was a little mean-- never much meaner than him, but sharp and acidic like vinegar. He liked it when she was so rotten that only he could handle her, and Tara didn't particularly mind that. She was just happy that someone was willing to put up with her mean self._

_\---_

Tara washes her face thoroughly and is through with it.


	2. Watery Grave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not a date, absolutely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Donna has Robbie but she's divorced. It was messy, too. That's all behind us now!  
> Happy International Lesbian Day! My Tara is probably bi, but my Raven is lesbian all the way baby

“I don't even know who to invite,” Donna says. With one hand she's writing something in her decorated lavender planner and with the other she's keeping Robbie steady as she bounces him on her knee. Her hair is pulled back into a knotted ponytail and there's an ink smudge on her nose. “We don't actually have that many girl friends.”

“Hey, you have us,” Tara says, gesturing to Raven. “Do we not count?”

“I mean friends she doesn't live with,” Donna says. “Let's see... Karen is in town, I think, and there's always Lilith... Cole...”

“Now I'm getting jealous,” Tara says. “Hey, Raven, Kory likes us better than those chumps, right?”

“We're the darlings of her heart,” Raven says flatly.

“That's what I want to hear. That's the situation with the bachelorette party, so what have you got planned for the groom?”

“It's easier for Dick,” Donna says. “Wally is taking care of most of it, I just need to book a place to throw it and make sure we have enough food.”

“You gonna hire strippers?”

“No.”

“Wally gonna hire strippers?”

“I... don't think so? He's pretty straight-laced.”

“If you hire strippers for Kory's party and not for Dick's, then you're a bad friend,” Tara says. “Hey, are you gonna open that soda, or can I have it?”

“I'm not hiring any strippers,” Donna says. Robbie makes a noise that Tara interprets as a grunt of agreement. “And no, I'm going to drink it.”

“Wait, are we bothering you?” Tara asks, determined to keep bothering.

  
“Let's go for a walk,” Raven says, grabbing Tara's hand and half-dragging her out of the room. As they pass the couch, Tara lunges to the side to grab a sweater. She's able to grab it by the edge of the sleeve before Raven spirits her away.

For some reason, Raven doesn't let go in the elevator. Tara isn't sure how to bring it up, so she doesn't, and they keep holding hands until they're a couple of floors down and Vic comes in. At this, Raven quickly pulls away and wipes her hand on her dress as though Tara's left something dirty on it.

“What's up with you two?” Vic asks.

Tara starts making up a lie about seeing a dead body, but Raven interrupts her.

“We've been talking to Donna about the parties. She's stressed out.” Raven pauses. “Tara was harassing her.”

“Hey! I just wanted to know if she was hiring any strippers.”

“You tried to take her soda.”

“I asked.”

Vic presses his lips together but he can't seem to hide the smile forming.

“What?” Tara asks.

“Nothing.”

“What's so funny?” Tara puts her hands on her hips. Vic is obviously suppressing laughter.

The elevator dings for the ground floor.

“Well, I'm headed to the basement. You two have fun.” Vic waves as they leave the elevator. Tara rolls her eyes.

The island is mostly filled with the Tower, so even though it's low tide and there's a ring of beach around them, there's nowhere to walk. Tara pulls up the chunk of concrete she usually uses (there's a small crater around it from having been plopped abruptly to the ground so many times), scrambles on, and offers Raven a hand. Raven takes it and Tara pulls her up with relative ease. She silently lauds herself for working out. Raven settles down behind her, tucking her skirt under her legs.

They rise into the air and Tara does her best to carry them both more carefully than she carries herself. She usually doesn't ride with anyone, and she's so aware of Raven's presence at her back. She's afraid she'll suddenly jerk or something and knock Raven off into the ocean.

“Should you be using your powers without being in costume?” Raven asks. “That seems like a bad idea.”

“Nah, we'll hop off once we get to the shore. I know a spot where nobody's ever lurking around, so we'll just land there and walk.”

“So you're carrying me off to a secluded beach?” Raven asks. “What are your intentions?”

Tara does jerk at that and she feels the rock dropping beneath her for a second. Raven yelps and wraps her arms around her torso, which is even more shocking, but Tara catches her rock and they both land back on it with a “thump.”

“What are you doing?” Raven exclaims. “It just fell!”

Tara feels her breath on her ear and is unable to come up with a satisfactory answer, so she says “What do you mean, 'intentions'? I just want to go for a damn walk!”

They ride along in silent irritation, Raven's arms still wrapped firmly around Tara, presumably to avoid a watery grave. When they reach the shore, it's rough and uneven. Tara gently lands on the edge of a large rock pool. Raven loosens her grip and slides off. Tara follows suit.

“It's actually really pretty here,” Raven admits. “Have you ever seen anybody else here?”

“No, it's kind of hard to walk with all the rocks,” Tara says, kicking one for emphasis. “It's rough on your ankles if you're not used to it.”

“I'm not used to it,” Raven says.

“Want me to carry you? Piggyback or bridal?”

Raven rolls her eyes. “Don't push it.”

The rocks closer to the water have been worn small and smooth, so that's where they walk.

  
Raven gets attacked by a crab.

  
Tara offers to eat it as revenge.

“It's probably full of pollutants,” Raven says. “Be my guest if you want to throw up.”

They have a nice time.

\---

Staff training. When Vic stops complaining about how getting hit on his metal parts makes his teeth rattle, it's Tara and Raven's turn. Vic and Kory hand off their staffs off and Dick gives them a thumbs-up.

“Should I go easy on her because she's so clueless?” Tara asks innocently. Raven shoots her a look.

“Okay, kids, play fair,” Dick says, ignoring the question.

Raven steps back with a look of calm determination on her face and slides her hands into the right position on her staff.

\---

_Before it started. She hadn't quite figured it out at that point._

“ _One palm up, one down.” His hand folded over hers, easing the fingers down around the staff._

_\---_

“Okay, warm-up spin. Think windmills,” Dick says.

“Why are you telling us what to do?” Tara asks. “It's not like any of this is new.”  
  


“I know more about this than you, so I'm allowed to boss you around. Raven, good job!”

  
Raven doesn't smile, but Tara sees something like that in her eyes.

“Stance!”

\---

“ _Keep your legs further apart, like this. No, bend your front leg and keep your back leg straight.” Again, he lightly gripped her hip and pulled her thigh so it was outstretched._

_\---_

“First to land a hit wins! Nobody's getting beaten black-and-blue today,” Dick says. He mimes blowing a whistle.

Raven lunges forward. Her form is a little clumsy, Tara notes. That's what happens when you spend your time reading instead of training. Tara blocks easily.

“Watch your knees!” Dick says. Raven nods and strikes again. Tara blocks again. She notices a thin sheen of sweat on the other girl's face-- her dark hair is clinging to her forehead.

Tara advances-- overhead blow, blocked haphazardly. Step forward, complete the second strike (at the beginning of the motion, the staff must be parallel to the ground). Raven grits her teeth. Tara keeps moving forward. Raven keeps moving backwards.

\---

_He always seemed so much bigger up close._

_\---_

“And... Game!” Dick calls, miming another whistle blow. Tara has Raven's back pressed against the wall, but Raven's staff is lightly resting on Tara's head, on top of what will certainly be a bump the next day.

“Good fight,” Tara says, stepping back. She lowers her staff and rubs her sore head. “Next time, avoid the skull. I don't want a concussion.”

Raven slumps slightly and releases a deep sigh. “You're tough,” she says. “How did you get so good at this?”

Tara smiles. “Lots of practice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Such short chapters!


	3. Discount

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven does something very courageous. Tara's mood is ruined yet again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! I've also been working on my Jason and Cass story for the batmans. I'm stuck tho :/  
> Anyway enjoy this please!

“So what's the dress situation here?” Tara asks casually. “Donna had bridesmaid dresses picked out by this time. Are you slacking?” To be perfectly fair, Tara had never worn the ruffly monstrosity Donna had given her. She'd been too busy wandering the streets as an amnesiac.

“Tamaranians usually do not have bridesmaids,” Kory says. She's carefully weaving together circlets of dried flowers. She has a pile of completed ones in the middle of the dining room table. “Everybody participates, not just a few people. I can not pick out matching dresses for the entire Justice League.”

“Just let Gar take care of it.”

“Do you want Gar dressing you?” Kory asks, quirking an eyebrow.

“...Good call. You seem pretty calm about all this. Donna is going crazy.”

“Donna will relax in time. She seems to think I want an Earth wedding. With the DJ.”

“What do you want?”

“On Tamaran, we sing, we dance, and we burn things. That is all I want; it would be nice to have G'larbac feathers and a torba bowl, but I do not need them to be happy. Oh, and Dick is not allowed to speak.”

“...Nice.”

Kory puts down her flowers. “It is not as if I am not participating in the human traditions myself! He is not allowed to look at me and everybody will throw grain. We will do the bouquet and the garter. I respect humans!”

“It's-- I wasn't saying you didn't!” Tara isn't ready to fight. “...Wait, who said you didn't?”

“I know that it is selfish to want to bring Tamaran to Earth,” Kory says, looking down at the table. “I try to be respectful of human behavior, even when it makes me a little uncomfortable. I do not kiss on the lips to do greeting and I laugh at the sarcasm. But my wedding is special. Earth is my home _now_ , but Tamaran is where I was born. I went to weddings when I was a little girl, and I played at them with my friends. I want to at least have a little of that here.” She keeps her chin high and proud, but there's a hurt look in her eyes.

Tara isn't sure what to say. She's never been any good at comforting people; if anything, she usually makes things worse. Does Kory even need comfort right now? She just nods her head awkwardly.

“That's fair,” she says. “I don't think it's selfish to miss where you grew up. I mean, it's not like this is someone else's wedding, so it's nobody's business how you do it, right?”

“But the guests will all be human. Dick's father will be there.”

“He's rich, he doesn't care.”

“What does that have to do with...?”

“Shh. He's rich.”

“I met him, he seemed to think...”

Tara leans forward and puts a finger on Kory's lips. “Shh. Wealthy.”

Kory seems to accept.

\---

“Fast or slow?” Gar asks, resting his chin on his hands and leaning over the table.

“Both,” Donna says.

“Song decade?”

“Well, Kory wants Tamaranian folk music, and Dick wants pop from the '70s, so multiple.”

“How many dances are we going to have? Parents' dances, bridal party dances, anniversary dances?”

“This is complicated enough without all that stuff,” Vic says.

“Aww, embarrassed?” Tara asks. “Scared of the boogie man?”

“That's lame,” Gar says. “Even I think that's lame.”

“Kory's parents can't make the voyage,” Donna says. “And Dick's father is single, so the parents' dance might be awkward. I'm thinking we can arrange it so that Dick and Kory dance first. I'll hire a choreographer. Then the brides' and grooms' parties can go, and then maybe the couple that's been together the longest, so I'll check the guest list and--”

Tara coughs. “That's stupid,” she says, thinking back to her earlier conversation. “Maybe everyone can just dance.”

“She's one of my best friends, and I want it to be perfect,” Donna says. “She and Dick have helped me so much all these years, so I want to help them back.”

“Still sounds like too much,” Vic says.

“Come on, it sounds fun!” Gar says. He punches Vic in the shoulder with a clanging noise. “We can teach you if you don't know how.”

“I know how to dance,” Vic says, but his expression says more. He presses his lips tightly together.

“Okay,” Gar says, standing up. “Prove yourself.”

  
Tara snorts.  
  


“You too,” Donna says, joining Gar. “If we make Vic do it, we all have to.”

Suddenly, it doesn't seem as funny. While the idea of Vic being a bad dancer is amazing and wonderful, Tara isn't able to dance either. She's been coasting. This is karma.

“I'll pair off with Vic, so it's you and Gar,” Donna says, switching on the radio on the counter. It's Lionel Richie.

“Is this okay?” Gar asks quietly as he takes her hand. “I'm not being weird, right?”

Tara rolls her eyes. “We're not sixteen anymore. I think you've got your teen horniness under control.”

“Right.”

Off to the side, Donna and Vic are swaying awkwardly. He looks terrified.

“Okay, do you remember how to do a box step?” Gar asks, nervously resting his hand on Tara's back.

“Yeah,” she says, even though she's not sure what a box step is. She carefully mirrors his feet.

“You don't remember,” Gar says. “Okay, put your right foot back.”

Which foot is the right foot? Tara makes a wild guess. Gar shakes his head sadly.

“Hey, Raven!” Donna calls. Tara looks over Gar's shoulder and sees Raven shuffling sleepily into the kitchenette with messy hair and her blanket dragging behind her.

Raven looks up groggily. “What are you doing?” she asks.

“Dancing,” Gar says. “Vic's low self-esteem is getting in the way of his social skills. Tara, you aren't supposed--”

“Hey!” Vic interjects. “My self-esteem is fine!”

“Join the party!” Donna says. “I think we need to switch up anyway.”

Raven squints at her, takes the kettle off the stove, and pours some hot water into a mug.

“I'm going with Gar next,” Vic says, letting go of Donna and stepping off to the side. “Tara's gonna be unpartnered.”

“But I'm right--” Donna begins.

“Unpartnered,” Vic repeats, looking meaningfully at Raven. Raven presses her lips together and looks away.

“This is stupid,” she says. “I'm not playing.” Tara feels a twinge of sympathy. She's not entirely sure what's going on, but Raven is embarrassed and Vic's making it worse.

“Donna knows how to lead, right?” Tara asks. “Because I only know how to... The thing that isn't leading.”

“I'd better know,” Donna says. “If I don't know how to lead, then Kory's going to be in trouble, because we've been practicing for weeks.”

Weird. Kory always struck Tara as the type who would lead in a dance. Maybe it's just because she's tall.

“Wait,” Raven says. “I'll try.”

“Man, talk about wishy-washy,” Tara says, but Raven, with unprecedented confidence, steps up to her and grabs her hand.

“You're wishy-washy,” Raven mumbles, resting her hand on Tara's back (electricity shoots up her spine).

The music changes-- something poppy and banal. Raven swallows and moves carefully, and Tara, somehow impressed by her determination, follows as well as she can.

  
It feels very different from dancing with Gar-- when she was younger, Gar excited a kind of nervousness in her that he doesn't now (even though it wasn't really a good feeling, it was a tangible one). Being close to Raven is a whole new experience. From the slender fingers that clutch Tara's hand to the light sway of Raven's dark hair to the smell of bitter black tea that lingers over her, Tara is oddly entranced.

Step in one direction, reverse, reverse again. It should be so boring. Tara can feel her heart pounding against the inside of her chest, either faster or slower than it should be. She's sure her hand is sweating.

“We're going to turn in a circle now,” Raven says stiffly.

“Taking charge, I see. Yay,” Tara says, bracing herself to either step on Raven's foot or be stepped on.

“You're doing a good job!” Donna says. Vic shoots her a look just as Tara loses focus and stomps Raven's slipper, throwing her off balance. They let go of each other, falling backwards a little.

Raven takes a deep breath and turns around. “Sorry!” she says, scurrying away before anybody else can interrupt.

After a few seconds of silence, Gar offers his opinion. “That was kinda weird.”

“Freaky,” Tara says, still catching her breath.

\---

“Fashion, fashion,” Gar chants. He has one arm around Raven's shoulder and one arm around Tara's.

“It looks like you have a broken leg and we're carrying you off the battlefield,” Raven says.

  
“He _will_ have a broken leg if he doesn't let go,” Tara says.

  
Gar lets go. “Can I still dress you up?”

“I'm not sure I could forgive you for doing something like that,” Raven says. “You can dress Tara.”

“Hey!”

  
The consignment store is a small brick building in a strip mall alongside a drugstore and a Vietnamese restaurant. It's got a worn exterior and a variety of outdated clothes displayed in its streaky front window.

“Chic!” Announces the light-up sign by the glass door. A bell rings as they open it and the sleepy clerk looks up from her counter.

“Welco-- oh!” Her droopy eyes widen when she sees Gar. “You're one of the Titans, right?”

“Guilty as charged,” Gar says. “Any heroes' discounts available?”

“No,” Raven says before the clerk can answer. “Let's look at the books.”

“But you don't even--”

Raven gently steers him away. Tara follows. She gives the clerk a little wave.

Gar stands around inattentively while Raven looks at something thick with a dusty cover.

  
“Wanna play the romance novel game?” Tara asks. “You look at the ones on display and you count how many man-nipples you can spot.”

“Cowboy,” Gar says, pointing. “Upper-left corner. Two nipples.”

“Kilt guy, bottom middle. One nipple-- maybe one and a half.”

“What are you doing?” Raven asks.

“Nothing wrong,” Tara says. “Let's go to the hats.”

They're probably going to get lice, honestly. If they just let anybody try on all these cloches, then chances are somebody covered in bugs has tried them on at some point.

“Hey, Gar,” she says.

“Mm?” He looks up from below the brim of a rhinestone-encrusted cowboy hat.

“Do you get lice, or do you get fleas?”

Just as Raven opens her mouth to deliver a scolding, Gar says, “Both.”

“Let's go somewhere else,” Raven says, gingerly lifting the hat from Gar's head.

Tara and Gar feel their way through the menswear section (they pet the faux-fur lining of a large and intimidating coat). Gar's eyes widen in excitement and he pulls out a shabby pink jacket with patches on the elbows. He ducks down and begins covertly putting it on.

“There are dressing rooms,” Raven says.

“I look like a professor,” Gar says, standing. His wrists poke out for a few inches and its bottom is well above his hips.

“Professor of being a bastard,” Tara says.

“It doesn't fit,” Raven says. “Also, Tara, stop being awful.” Tara shrugs.

“I think it fits.” Gar stretches his arms, pushing his wrists out further. “I'm gonna buy it.”

“I can't control you,” Raven says.

  
“You know, that's a really healthy way to approach your relationships with others,” Gar says thoughtfully as he takes the jacket off. “Time to dress up Tara!” He slaps a hand on her shoulder.

“I never agreed to this! Ask Kory, she knows!” Tara looks pleadingly at Raven, who just blinks at her like a cat.

They make their death march to the women's section, Gar in high spirits, Tara in poor spirits, and Raven in some sort of spirits. Tara drags behind, carefully examining every pointless thing she spots.

“Let's get the Teen Bible,” she says. “I really want that plush dragon. Hey, we should...”

A silly, stupid thing. There's a pair of high-heeled slippers in the discount shoe bin. The puffy feathers on the upper are clumped and ragged, and the color on the insole is worn down.

Tara stops dragging and walks a little faster.

\---

_A pair of pink mules with puffy faux feathers on the upper. Tara bought them for ten bucks at the costume store (she'd also kind of wanted a Reagan mask, but she had no excuse). She had an awkward, mincing walk when she tried them on. There was no strap around the back, so they were always on the verge of falling off._

_They were another part of her grown-up costume. She practiced walking in them in circles around her room for two hours, and hid them carefully when Gar knocked on her door looking for his rubber lizard. She was determined to come off as mature that night._

“ _What do you think?” she'd asked, pointing to them proudly._

“ _You look cheap,” Slade said bluntly._

_Her stomach plummeted._

“ _It suits you,” he said._

_She laughed._

_\---_

Gar is in the dressing room. He found a blouse, immediately labeled it as “bisexual” and scampered off. Tara is staring at a pair of overalls, twisting the buttons of the left strap again and again. She wants it to come loose, even though Raven will probably make her take responsibility and buy the whole thing.

“What are you doing?” Raven asks from behind her. Tara jumps.

“I'm ruining these overalls,” Tara says, turning to face her. “I've almost got the thread worn down, see?”

“No,” Raven says, taking them from her. “You suddenly got quiet and you're making that face.”

“What face?”

“I know you, Tara.”

\---

“ _I know you better than anyone. Don't lie to me.” He cradled her face gently as he said it, but all she could think of was how close his hands were to her neck._

_\---_

“No, you don't,” Tara says, reaching to take the overalls back. “Stop acting like you can read my mind.”

Raven steps back, clutching them to her chest. “You're upset,” she says.

“I'm not.” Tara's voice cracks a little. “And even if I am, aren't I allowed to be?”

Raven opens her mouth as if to say something, but she closes it again. She looks down at the overalls. The button is hanging down awkwardly. “You're allowed to be upset,” she says. “But I hate it.”

Tara stretches her face into a sarcastic grin. “All better!” she says.

Raven hands back the overalls without making eye contact.

“Come in and have a look!” Gar calls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I understand that at this point she has had both red lipstick and a bright pair of shoes, but that was not my intention. I have no guarantee of knee-high socks, whether they be to cover a bruise or not.

**Author's Note:**

> Get Ready to have more things Ruined Forever


End file.
